DON CAESAR.
Be brief!
DON MANUEL.
Proceed!
DIEGO.
Soon as I trod the convent's court—impatient—
I ask—"Where is thy daughter?" Terror sate
In every eye; and straight, with horror mute,
I heard the worst.
[ISABELLA sinks, pale and trembling, upon a chair;
DON MANUEL is busied about her.
DON CAESAR.
Say'st thou by pirates stolen?
Who saw the band?—what tongue relates the spoil?
DIEGO.
Not far a Moorish galley was descried,
At anchor in the bay——
DON CAESAR.
The refuge oft
From tempests' rage; where is the bark?
DIEGO.
At down,
With favoring breeze she stood to sea.
DON CAESAR.
But never
One prey contents the Moor; say, have they told
Of other spoil?
DIEGO.
A herd that pastured near
Was dragged away.